


The Uncountable Stars

by Yahong



Category: Go Ho's Starry Night
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I swear this was inspired by my urge to write poly fluff, Multi, but the angst is necessary to gateway Tae Ho into being open to the idea LOL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-03-06 22:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yahong/pseuds/Yahong
Summary: Go Ho thought her romance with her ex was over. Kang Tae Ho thought the office competition was over. But Go Ho has more room than she thinks in her life for men who loved her, for men who love her still, for men whom she loves.(GO WATCH THIS DRAMA IT'S THE ULTIMATE REVERSE-HAREM LMAO)





	1. A sight she thought she’d never see again

The first night that Tae Ho stays over, Ji Hoon shows up on her doorstep.

Go Ho and Tae Ho had gotten back to her place well past 9 PM, relaxed enough from a dinner bookended with wine to ease the nerves of having him here. She’s got her blazer and bra off and is perched on the window sill—well, more like squished into the corner. Tae Ho deciding to join her there means he’s sprawled across the entire length of the ledge; when she complained, his solution was to grip her by the waist and sit her down between his thighs.

Yeah, no, she couldn’t take that much Tae Ho, that close, that soon. So here she is, wedged in the corner between the cold window and his long legs, hiding her face in her phone screen, when the doorbell rings.

Go Ho wriggles around to get her legs out from underneath her, but Tae Ho’s blocking her way. She shoots him a look. He slowly raises his gaze from his phone and blinks at her.

“Hey. Move,” she says, and pokes a finger into his calf.

“Who is it?” he asks, not moving whatsoever.

“How could I know without answering?” Go Ho turns the poke into a punch.

One of his eyebrows twitches upward. “It’s late,” he mutters, but sits up and withdraws his legs.

That’s true, she reflects as she shoves her feet into her slippers and heads to the door. It better not be her mother. Or her brother.

Then again, neither really visit. Actually, since she prefers to go out when with friends, almost nobody ever visits her at home, which is why the wine was quite necessary before bringing Tae Ho back here—

She opens the door to see her ex-boyfriend.

Go Ho’s first thought is that he looks terrible. Ji Hoon’s hair is nowhere near his usual careful coiff, his eyes are bloodshot and his hands hover in front of him as though they’re detached from his body. He looks at her and his stare grabs for her eyes.

Her second thought is: _good thing the doorway isn’t visible from the windowsill_.

“Go Ho-yah,” he says, quietly. Then he sways forward, ever so slightly.

Her arms automatically come up to catch him. “Oppa?”

And she doesn’t know why she called him that. But he stumbles forward a step and grasps at her hands, eyes looking straight into hers but also unfocused. Has he been drinking? That was never his vice, but grief and mourning are powerful catalysts.

She’s stepping in to bear more of his limp weight when Tae Ho rounds the corner and says, slowly, “What’s going on?”

For a moment, Go Ho’s tempted to launch Ji Hoon out the door, lock it and assure Tae Ho that everything’s fine. Their relationship is so new that she doesn’t want any strain. She’s overly cautious now, she knows that.

But she doesn’t toss her ex-boyfriend out. She retracts the step she took and turns to her current boyfriend. “It’s Ji Hoon,” she says, which is kind of an obvious thing to say, yes.

Tae Ho’s scowl is firmly in place as he stalks toward her. “What—”

But Ji Hoon speaks up. “What is he doing here?” His voice is suddenly right behind her ear.

“That’s what I’m asking you,” Tae Ho says, and now she’s sandwiched between them. Yay.

She slices an arm through the air. “Time-out,” she says.

Neither responds.

Go Ho huffs, gets both arms up and pushes against their chests as hard as she can. They rock back maybe half an inch, but it’s enough; they stop their staring contest and focus on her.

“Go Ho,” Tae Ho says, a demand in his tone. He reaches a hand out and laces his fingers through hers, not quite pulling.

“Go Ho,” says Ji Hoon, and all his anger is gone. The wrecked, bottomless way he says her name has her turning toward him, even as Tae Ho tightens his grip.

She takes a good look at Ji Hoon, really looks at him, his red eyes and the crumpled lines around his mouth. She asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Father…” He swallows. “I was going through my father’s things.”

Behind her, Go Ho feels Tae Ho go still.

“I found the ring he gave to my mother,” Ji Hoon continues, his voice growing thinner and thinner. “He told me… he told me he would give it to me when I was ready to propose—”

And he sounds like he’s about to break and so Go Ho pulls her hand free, pulls Ji Hoon over the threshold and embraces him.

He sobs on her shoulder, his grip on her tight and trembling. She watches her apartment door slowly swing closed and thanks all the stars in the world that Ji Hoon never proposed to her with his father’s ring. Her heart is ruined enough as it is.

By the time her door has clicked shut, Ji Hoon’s no longer shaking, but his weight is still braced against her. He turns his head toward her, cheek brushing cheek. The smell of him is so familiar and--

Go Ho moves her hands between them and applies pressure. Ji Hoon peels away from her as though he might reopen a wound if he moves too fast. She knows the feeling; she's only just recovered from such a wound, one that he caused.

She looks up; every blink of his throws off the shine of tears. “Where’s your mother?” she asks.

“She’s gone.” Ji Hoon lifts an arm and roughly wipes at his face with his coat sleeve. “She went to my aunt’s.” He takes a breath, hesitates, then continues: “I’m alone.”

She takes that in, then glances over her shoulder. Tae Ho’s face is doing something, but he stops as soon as he meets her gaze. She tries to question him with her eyes. He remains a brick wall.

Fine, then. This is her place, anyway. To Ji Hoon, she says, “Would you like to stay?”

His expression wavers. He closes his eyes briefly, opens them and says, “Yes.”

So Go Ho steps aside and watches him walk past an unmoving Tae Ho, who tracks him with his eyes, and watches him walk into her apartment. A sight she thought she’d never see again.


	2. Re-learning

That first night, Go Ho sleeps on the couch and the two men sleep together on her queen bed.

The arrangement comes about like this:

Ji Hoon collapses on her armchair, back bent and elbows on his knees, looking off into nowhere. Go Ho only manages to catch a glimpse of this before she’s tugged into the nook of her bathroom by an irritated Tae Ho.

He crowds her into the corner, blocking her view. “You invited him to stay?” He’s so quietly incredulous it doesn’t even sound like a question.

Go Ho squirms a bit. It’s a touchy situation, surely Tae Ho sees that. She lifts her hands to his arms. “He’s alone right now,” she starts.

“You’re not his girlfriend,” Tae Ho says immediately. “Making sure he isn't lonely isn't your responsibility.”

She narrows her eyes—though, since he’s taller than her, it’s more like squinting upward. “He’s hurting,” she says, lowering her voice even further. “How can I leave him by himself like this?”

Tae Ho opens his mouth to retort, but she sees his expression waver. She knows he isn’t inherently too kind toward others, not like Ji Hoon is, but he understands enough. More, he wants to understand her.

So she pushes for that angle. “I’m sorry it turned out like this,” she whispers. “Can you put up with it for one night for me?”

He holds her gaze for a moment longer, then exhales, brushes her hands off his biceps and turns away.

“You can leave if you want…” She trails off as he spins back around and pins her with an unimpressed stare. She tacks on an appeasing smile.

Tae Ho lets out another huff, turns and heads straight for the bed.

Really. She was just saying that to be polite and give him the option. It’s not like she actually wanted him to leave.

Her eyes fall on Ji Hoon. He isn’t even wearing slippers; she only had one extra set out by the door. That jolts her into action: she hurries to her closet and, after a bit of rummaging, pulls out a pair of disposable ones lifted from a hotel.

She goes to the armchair. “Here you go,” she says, placing them by Ji Hoon’s socked feet. She looks up, into his eyes. He’s still gazing off at some unfocused point. His hands dangle in between his knees.

“Ji Hoon,” she says, carefully. It feels weird to leave off a suffix, but no honorific seems appropriate right now.

It takes two blinks before he snaps out of it. “Ah.” He looks down at the slippers and pushes his feet in.

Go Ho hovers by his side and, because she doesn’t know what to say, asks, “Did you have dinner?”

“Yes, I ate.” He continues to stare at the ground.

“Good.” She hesitates. Tentatively, she continues, “Because I don’t actually have any food ready in my house right now.”

That brings his gaze up to meet hers. After a moment, his face breaks from its lost expression and he huffs out a breath that’s almost a chuckle. “You never do.”

“Hey.” She lightly punches his knee and, despite everything, can't help a smile.

A loud shuffling brings her attention beyond Ji Hoon to the bed. The bed, where Tae Ho’s currently kicking all her stuffed animals out and rearranging her numerous cushions.

“Hey!” Go Ho launches to her feet and runs over in time to catch Pusheen before it hits the ground. “What are you doing?”

Tae Ho looks at her stroking her stuffed Pusheen. “Tch.” He turns away and swings his legs over the bed’s other side.

“Look.” She gathers up her stuffies, climbs onto the bed with them and prods at Tae Ho’s shoulder. “I said I’m sorry already,” she says on a hiss. “What else do you want me to do?”

He turns back around, a sharp movement that knocks his knee into hers. “You don’t have to help him,” he says, tone low.

They’re going over this again? She prods him once more. “How can I not?” she whispers.

Under her touch, his body grows tense. Slowly, he shifts himself back onto the bed and leans over her, one hand reaching to plant on her other side. “You don’t have to,” he repeats, even lower.

“Yeees…” Go Ho stretches out the word as she shuffles backward into the cushions. “But—”

“But you want to.”

Oh. “It’s not like that,” she says. A glance over the bedside shows Ji Hoon’s still facing away.

Her head is gripped and turned back toward Tae Ho. She blinks, and finds their mouths five centimetres apart.

Tae Ho tips his head, finger still on her chin, and their noses brush.

She freezes while her thoughts whir, trying to take stock of their current positions. She's braced against the cushions, centre of balance stretched tenuously as he keeps her from retreating further with thumb and index fingers on her chin. And he's right there in front of her, weight surrounding on two sides, eyes almost too close, lips _definitely_ too close.

If she moves her hands (or anything else, really), she'll tip backward into a very undignified, possibly suggestive pose. So she stays very still, keeps her eyes on his and repeats softly, “It's not like that.”

For a moment his gaze flicks down to her mouth and she's almost fearful he's about to kiss her in front of her ex, even though she’s 99% sure he’s not the type to do that. Then his eyes meet hers again, and abruptly he pushes upright and away.

In the next moment, Tae Ho has launched himself off the bed entirely and disappeared into the depths of her closet. That leaves Go Ho posed awkwardly amongst her cushions, gaping at the speed at which he distanced himself.

Ji Hoon looks around and says, “Go Ho-ssi? …Are you going to bed?”

She flails upright and scrambles out of the cushions, makes a show of checking her watch. “Ah… what time is it?” _Ten o’clock_. Too early for her. But—“Let’s turn in for the night,” she says. From what she remembers, Ji Hoon usually gets in before eight in the morning, and the commute from her apartment to the office is no joke.

Ji Hoon rises from the armchair and is almost immediately grazed by Tae Ho, who walks directly in front of him with a load of her spare blankets. Ji Hoon bounces off, almost comically. Go Ho puts a hand over her mouth and swallows a slightly anxious laugh.

“Eh—” Ji Hoon regains his balance and makes an annoyed sound. Tae Ho barely spares a glance before continuing to his target, her small sofa.

Unceremoniously, the blankets are dumped. He looks back at Ji Hoon and tilts his head down at the sofa.

Ji Hoon takes a few steps forward, seeming to understand what Tae Ho’s trying to say. His gaze travels from the sofa to Tae Ho, to Go Ho on the bed, then back to Tae Ho. Then back to Go Ho. His eyes seem to ask something.

She hastily gets off the bed and makes for the two of them. Tae Ho swings his head around and pins her with his stare as well. She swallows and slows. Okay. She needs to decide on the sleeping arrangements herself and enforce them, so nobody complains.

“There’s one large bed and one small sofa,” she says with as much cheerful resolve as she can. “So I’ll take the sofa, and Tae Ho and Ji Hoon can share the bed.”

Tae Ho does that bristling thing of his where he almost vibrates silently, but Ji Hoon takes it in stride: he dips his head once and then heads off for the bathroom.

Go Ho edges around Tae Ho and busies herself with smoothing out the blankets on the sofa, to give her hands something to do while she says: “Tae Ho.” Then, “Tae Ho-yah.”

He stops vibrating and comes to her side. “Go Ho-yah,” he says, low.

“I’m sorry,” she says into the blankets.

His hand reaches out and covers hers. She glances up.

Tae Ho just looks at her.

She used to think she understood his expressions, that their range was limited to different shades of angry, disapproving or self-satisfaction. But if he’s had a one-sided crush on her for four years, if he was angry and short-tempered because he was jealous and not because he hated her, then her understandings of him were all filtered wrong. And now she’s re-learning.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says shortly, and breaks eye contact. He withdraws his hand and turns away.

Go Ho curls her hand into a ball and wonders if he just invited himself over again for tomorrow night.

*

“Move.”

“What?”

“Move over.”

“…Why?”

Tae Ho stares at Ji Hoon until the latter moves to the other side of the bed. Tae Ho lays himself down and stretches out on his side, facing Go Ho, a wall between her and Ji Hoon.

She looks at them, at the two of them on her bed.

"Good night," she says softly.


	3. An unbroken golden rule

Tae Ho drives them to work. Ji Hoon’s in the back, looking almost as freshly pressed as he usually does and not really at all like he spent the night in the same bed as his ex-girlfriend’s current boyfriend. Go Ho sits in the passenger seat and winds her hands together so tightly her fingers lose circulation.

At a red light, Tae Ho casts her a side glance, one of those long looks that always felt so judgemental before. She almost demands, “What?” but settles for a narrow side look of her own.

The light changes to green. Tae Ho readjusts his grip on the steering wheel, presses on the gas, reaches out with his right hand, clasps her left hand into his and accelerates forward with one hand on the wheel.

It’s all so smooth that Go Ho drops her gaze and just stares at his hand in hers for a moment.

He takes his hand back at the next left turn, but Go Ho’s fingers stay unwound for the rest of the silent drive.

*

Hee Yeon asks, “You all got in together?”, but Go Ho puts her off with a head shake and a slightly exaggerated eye-roll. Otherwise, no one seems to remark on their simultaneous entrance. Tae Ho’s his usual brusque self, and Ji Hoon skates by on distant politeness that leaves the rest of Team B discontent but not suspicious.

As for Go Ho, she avoids:

  * speaking to either of them,
  * reaching for folders above her height, and
  * Oh Jung Min. Who’s taken to nagging her about her relationship with Kang Tae Ho.



At lunch, he catches her waiting for the microwave. “Why isn’t he in a better mood now that he’s with you?” Jung Min whines. “I’ve already redone that Ainsoft pitchbook three times.”

As if she has any say over Tae Ho’s moods. “Guess I don’t make people happy in relationships,” she retorts, and heroically resists the urge to stick her tongue out.

“You would make me happy!” Jung Min switches his pout instantaneously for a beaming grin.

“I don’t care about your happiness.” Go Ho stares at the timer and wills it to go faster.

“Then I would make _you_ happy.”

She scoffs. How does he even have the guts to say things like that?

He tucks his hands behind his back and leans in, puppy-dog eyes wide. “You said you want excitement. I’m good at excitement.”

“Ha.” Go Ho loses her internal battle and prods an index finger into his chest. “You? Right now? This is called _being clingy_. It’s the opposite of excitement, you know that?”

He considers this for a moment. Then he straightens, takes a step forward and plants a hand against the counter beside her hip. He cocks his brows, places his other hand to her other side. Effectively closing her in.

“Go away.” She draws back, bumping into the counter, and glares at him.

Jung Min smiles a small smile, not his usual ludicrous one. Then he bites his lip, tilts his head and looks at her through his lashes.

“Sunbae…”

His suggestive trail-off is interrupted by the loud beeping of the microwave. Go Ho startles and tries to turn around. His position gives very little space to do so without knocking into him, so she does.

“Go away.” She drives her elbows into his forearms and bends slightly to take her food out of the microwave.

He doesn’t go. Instead, she feels him move in against her back, legs just brushing hers from below. “Let’s eat lunch together,” he says, voice at her ear.

She’s just about to break his nose with the back of her skull when footsteps sound from the left. Go Ho freezes. Her mind automatically starts running through reasonable excuses for the ridiculous position they’re in.

 _There isn’t one_ , she concludes a nanosecond later, and makes a lunge for it.

So Hwang Ji Hoon finds them like that: Go Ho on the floor, having thrown herself under Jung Min’s outstretched arm, and Jung Min essentially hugging the open microwave door.

They both look round at Ji Hoon. He just looks back, gaze moving between Jung Min to Go Ho.

“Manager Hwang.” She hastily picks herself up off the floor and nods to him as normally as she can.

“Are you all right?” Ji Hoon asks, taking a step forward.

“Yes,” she says quickly. “I… I’m just getting my lunch.” She moves toward the microwave and takes the opportunity to jab at Jung Min’s arm.

“Sunbae,” he pouts, and pulls his arms in to rub his right bicep pointedly.

Ji Hoon’s still watching when she turns back around with her lunch in her hands. She smiles weakly. Her feet start shuffling backward of their own accord toward the other exit of the kitchen.

Before Jung Min can follow her, Ji Hoon addresses him. “Oh Jung Min-ssi. You can take the lunch order for the office today.”

“Lunch order?”

“Yes. Listen well. Team B needs three meals…”

It’s the perfect moment for Go Ho to zip into the break room.

…Where Kang Tae Ho is.

“Manager Kang.” Please let him not have heard that scuffle.

“Go Ho-ssi.” He acknowledges her with a curt nod before returning to his lunch.

It’s funny, he never used to append the suffix to her name before. Now that they’re dating, it’s _-ssi_ this and _-ssi_ that.

A workplace relationship does need healthy boundaries, she decides as she sits down beside him at the small round table. At least she can keep addressing him (...addressing them both) as ‘Manager’.

Tae Ho shifts when she pulls her chair in underneath her. She glances his way, but he’s studying his lunch container intently.

Okay, so no conversation. That’s safe, at least. Stomach growling, Go Ho opens her lunch and puts her chopsticks to work. It’s something of a relief to eat in Tae Ho’s presence without worrying about stuffing her face, which always stresses her out on their dates.

When Go Ho comes up for air, cheeks bulging, a napkin hovers in front of her. She pulls back to see Tae Ho, still not looking her way, holding the paper napkin between two fingers in front of her face.

“Thank you.” She takes it and waits for the follow-up comment on her eating mannerisms.

It doesn’t come. Go Ho stops chewing to look at him.

He meets her eyes in a very short side-glance. “What is it?” he says into his food.

“Ah, nothing.” She’s even gotten ready her usual obedient acquiescence while internally thumbing her nose at him. But, she realizes as she thinks back, her acquiescence hasn’t been necessary for a while.

He’s still not saying anything, so Go Ho thinks out loud to fill the silence. “I think I got used to being insulted whenever you did something nice for me,” she muses, then chomps down on her bun.

Tae Ho’s chopsticks pause on their way from his mouth to his lunch. He looks at her, for longer than two seconds, finally.

She gives an inquiring look, one she’s 99% sure is polite and professional. That wasn’t really relationship talk, was it? Surely he doesn’t consider that to be violating the golden rule of workplace relationships — _don’t talk about it at work_ — so soon.

But still, maybe no more thinking aloud. Go Ho goes back to putting food in her mouth. With the way Tae Ho’s not talking, it’s probably safer to just mirror him and mind her own business for now.

So she finishes her lunch early, in what is probably the quietest fifteen minutes that she’s ever experienced at E-Woo, and gathers her things. “Then I’ll be going first.”

Before she can stand, Tae Ho abruptly turns to her and says: “Is Oh Jung Min being a nuisance?”

Um. How to answer? Jung Min’s pretty much always a nuisance, but that’s her personal opinion. Tae Ho’s likely asking in terms of work. She’s not on any projects with him, so that should be an easy no.

But he did mention redoing the Ainsoft pitchbook, and something about her relationship with Tae Ho…? _No, no, that’s just him making excuses and being a gossip_. And if he’s complaining about their relationship, then that’s something she’ll bring up with Tae Ho outside of work, if she feels like it.

Tae Ho’s watching her impatiently now, so she puts her smile back on and says, “Oh Jung Min’s work hasn’t disrupted mine.”

She goes to stand again, but Tae Ho’s still looking dissatisfied, and yes, okay, that expression still works on her. “There’s something…” But no, she catches herself before she caves under his silent pressure. “Maybe we — let’s chat after work.”

With all the backbone she can muster up, Go Ho nods to Tae Ho’s frowning face and makes it out of the break room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Did you catch the Strong Woman Do Bong Soon shout-out?


	4. After work

When she gets off work, Tae Ho’s waiting.

“Omo.” Go Ho screeches to a halt outside their building and looks at his lurking figure in the shadow of the revolving door. “Manager Kang?”

He reaches out wordlessly and hauls her to him. She stumbles as she goes and then somehow she’s in his arms.

Breath lost, she flattens her hands on his torso and pushes away to peer upward. “Manager…?”

Tae Ho’s staring at her, but as soon as she makes eye contact, he looks away and points his chin beyond her. “Don’t block the door.”

“Ah.” She twists around in his hold to see a few people trickling out, one or two glancing their way. Instinctively, she pulls back to leave a respectable distance between herself from Tae Ho.

He returns his gaze back to her, looking dissatisfied, and she’s really kind of doubtful that it’s because he wishes she didn’t pull away.

“So…” Go Ho straightens and puts her shoulders back. “Were you waiting for me for something?”

“Yes.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and pauses. He looks away for a moment, then says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Oh. Okay.” Go Ho does her best to keep her expression blank and falls into step beside him. Isn’t that a possible break-up opening line? Her mind starts whirring. At least Tae Ho’s doing it early, instead of dragging their relationship out. If she’d had time to get used to him, to actually fully see him as someone she wants and likes, no question the break-up would be a lot worse.

She knows, from experience, from the one time she’s allowed herself to fully embrace a person in her life.

“Yah.” Tae Ho comes to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turns to face her. “What are you thinking?”

“I — I’m not thinking much,” she lies. “Why?”

He frowns at her, then starts walking again in silence. Go Ho follows along, just a bit more miffed. _If you’re going to do it, then do it_.

Then suddenly: “It’s after work.”

“Huh?”

Tae Ho shoots her a look over his shoulder. “It’s after work.” When she continues to squint questioningly, he huffs and pushes his hands deeper into his coat pocket. “Oh Jung Min.”

“Ahh.” Heavens. She’s never going to understand his thought processes. “Right, right, Oh Jung Min.” _That’s_ what he wanted to talk about.

“Right,” Tae Ho repeats, curtly.

She hurries to explain. “It’s nothing big. He keeps bringing up the fact that we’re in a relationship. It’s a bit annoying, but that’s it.”

“Why does he know we’re in a relationship?”

“I told him.” Is that something Tae Ho takes issue with? “To make him give up pursuing… his pursuit.”

He’s quiet, his stride not quite as long as it was. Go Ho lets her pace slow, much to her calves’ relief. She glances sideways and up.

“What does he say?” Tae Ho finally speaks.

“‘What does he say?’” she repeats. “Um, what do you mean?”

“He’s not still asking you for sex, is he.” He doesn’t even allow it to be a question.

“What — of course not,” she blusters. “Do you think I would let him keep talking to me about sex? Am I a masochist?”

His head cocks. “Yes,” he decides, and smiles a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” She relaxes further and, almost without thinking, loops her hand over his arm.

His hands are in his pockets, and she feels them ball up. Quickly she looks up to gauge his reaction.

Although, really, if he doesn’t want to hold hands, then they might as well just swear off all skinship, no?

Tae Ho’s staring hard off into the distance and biting his lip. She stares. How has she never seen him bite his lower lip before like that? Why is it so sexy?

He glances down, and Go Ho immediately looks away. Well, he didn’t shake her hand off, at least.

Then his arm is sliding through her grasp and his hand has captured hers. “What is it.”

“What is what?” she responds instinctively. They’re walking even slower now, several blocks from the office already.

“Your face.”

“What about my face?” Her hands fly to her cheeks as though she might be able to feel through touch what he’s judging.

In the next moment, Tae Ho’s pulled her hands away from her face and secured them in his own. They stop in the middle of the sidewalk, facing each other.

Go Ho gets her breathing in order, tilts her head up and searches his face for some indicator of what he’s thinking now. “Manager — ?”

“Tae Ho.”

“What?”

Instead of clarifying, he steps into her; on instinct she backs up, onto the grass. As she furrows her brows at him, he looks over his shoulder, and a cyclist goes by.

Go Ho huffs a silent breath. Why even expect anything romantic from Tae Ho when he could spend all their time together keeping her from blocking other people’s way? Not like they need to have conversation, anyway.

She turns to keep walking and is stopped short by his hands on hers, which she somehow forgot about. Quickly she back-steps to avoid stumbling over her own feet, and returns her gaze back to Tae Ho. “Manager—”

“Didn’t you say to drop the formalities?” He interrupts yet again.

Jeez. “Kang Tae Ho,” she says with extra emphasis. “What is it?”

He looks back at her innocently. “That’s what I was asking you.”

“What?”

“What were you thinking about to make your face look like that?”

“To make my face look like _what?”_

Tae Ho takes another step in, making Go Ho back up again. But this time he closes the distance between them: he leans down, keeping her in place with his hands on hers, and kisses her.

Her mouth is still open, and she feels his tongue brush ever so lightly against the inner edge of her upper lip. A shiver goes through her and she squeezes their clasped hands for support. There's an urge building low in her body, an urge she hasn't felt in a long time.

When he pulls away, Go Ho’s lips stay parted as she gapes at him. Tae Ho straightens, catches his breath and says, “That look. The one on your face right now.”

It takes a second for her to recall what he’s referring to. “Don’t look,” she snaps in self-preservation, and tugs her hands free to march away from him and his embarrassing PDA.

There’s a very faint chuckle from behind. It takes two strides for him to catch up to her and two seconds for him to retake her hand. “Go Ho-yah.” Amusement lingers in his tone.

“Tae Ho-yah,” she snipes back.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

She slides him a glance. He’s smiling.

When she looks away, she finds she’s smiling, too.


End file.
